A/N: I'm so, so, so, so, SO sorry for this ridiculously short chapter, but I felt that the next part would have to be a chapter of its own (which probably means another short chapter). The story is, unfortunately, coming to a close. So now, without further ado, I bring you...chapter 11!
I was only trying to protect you.
The club was packed with hot, sweaty bodies moving to the music. Meaghan was sitting at the bar, nursing a half-empty glass of ginger ale. Harry tumbled into the seat next to hers, slightly drunk. His face was flushed and his hair was falling into his eyes.
“Following Liam’s rules?” he asked, smirking at Meaghan’s soda.
“I’m trying this new thing. It’s called ‘doing what you’re told’,” Meaghan replied cheekily.
Harry raised an eyebrow. “Meaghan Thomas, doing what she’s told?”
Meaghan shrugged, then leaned in conspiratorially. “I’m just waiting until Liam stops watching me until I get hammered.”
“Ahh, so that’s the plan.” Harry smiled. “Should we dance while we wait?”
Meaghan hesitated for a moment before setting her drink down on the counter. Harry grabbed her hand and tugged her out on the dance floor. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, their chests touching. She rested her forehead against his and felt the music move her.
“So how’re you doing?”
Meaghan smirked. “I won’t be trying to kill myself, if that’s what you’re getting at…”
“Not really, but that’s good to know.” Harry held her tighter against him. “I just wanted to know how you’re doing in general.”
“I’ve been alright. What about you?”
Harry swayed to the music a bit before answering. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you, Meg.”
Meaghan closed her eyes and pulled away. “Harry, please-”
“No, babe, just listen to me.” He gazed at her, his eyes wide and honest. “I can’t let you go without having at least given this a shot. We could be so great together, but you just won’t even give me a chance.”
“Do we have to go through this every time we’re together?” Meaghan pushed away from him roughly. “Jesus, Harry you want me as a friend but then you do this every time.”
“Do what, Meaghan?” His typically gentle green eyes glinted with anger. “Tell you how I’m feeling?” He calmed down a bit and ran his hand through his curls. “I’m sorry. I just…I got a bit…I’m sorry.”
Meaghan settled back into her position against his chest. She could feel the warmth of his chest and hear his heartbeat against her cheek. She closed her eyes, letting him take control. Drowning out everything but him. The sweet smell of his cologne mixed with alcohol. The way his heart beat into her ear. When he tilted her head up by her chin and kissed her, she didn’t resist. She could feel the stubble on his chin. Taste the whiskey on his tongue.
“Let’s get out of here,” he whispered. And she agreed. How could she resist him?
